It was my first experience of hatred electronically conveyed
From far away but still
Some horrible wound must have been given
To prompt the fire that even wires could not cool.
I will revisit the offending poem
Continue for a while the post mortem already under way
To wound is not my pleasure, I know a better communion.
But it may come down to this,
As one who repents an arrogance towards Shelley in my youth,
It just may be that what was written
Despite hatred's fire either far or near
Was simply this one soul's truth.